


Friends Until the Second Act Break

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, Get Together, Light Pining, M/M, One use of the f-word, The Other One, and some mild homophobia, basically a romance novella, brief discussions of bullying, canon-typical discussions of violence and assault, not fuck, rafael barba's emotional support giraffe, season with fuck you sauce, serve on toast, sonny carisi's hot piece, squad cameo, with obligatory m/m romance lesbian sidekick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 15:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17869916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: Sonny's 20th high school reunion is coming up, and oh no, he's single. What do.





	Friends Until the Second Act Break

**Author's Note:**

> My love to my darling Lunochka for her excellent beta work.

They win. Barely. The jury gives out rapes in the second instead of first, but the defendant has to go on the registry and serve a full seven years. Olivia, Amanda, and Fin all pat Rafael on the back and tell him he did his best. That, hey, they got the conviction, and this guy will at least be off the streets for awhile. 

It's Sonny who hangs back, giving Rafael a wry smile as Olivia announces they're going to toast their success at Forlini's. The others don't notice; they're riding too high on the win as they lead the way out of the courtroom.

"Carisi," Olivia calls over her shoulder, "herd him over, will you? You two can get your post-verdict chit-chat out of the way before you meet up with us."

Sonny's wry smile falls into an honest, easy grin, and Rafael can't help but chuckle when Sonny replies, "Oh, so just because I got a law degree, too, I gotta babysit him over to the bar?"

"We don't wanna hear lawyer shit when y'all get there!" Amanda yells without looking back, her accent thick in the moment of excitement.

"It's flattering how much they care," Rafael deadpans. 

Sonny cuts him a look, his dimples deepening for a moment before he laughs. "They're all right," he says. 

"I'll agree on only that point," Rafael replies to hear the laugh again. It makes his shoulders loosen a little to hear it. To be able to know that Sonny's wry smile from a few minutes ago was about commiseration over the jury's decision, not a judgement on Rafael as a lawyer.

"C'mon," Sonny says, pointing a thumb towards the doors. "We get too far behind 'em, they're gonna get ahead of us in celebrating."

"Might not notice my mood then." 

"Maybe we can walk it off before we get there."

"We?" Rafael asks as he picks up his briefcase and falls into step next to Sonny. 

"Fucking ridiculous, second degree for what he did," Sonny replies. "They were horrified when you put up the photos from the hospital."

Rafael sighs and forcibly pushes out some of his tension. Sonny puts a hand between his shoulders, not a sympathetic pat, but a steady weight. A friendly reminder that Sonny's ready to listen, like he is after every win and every loss if Rafael wants to talk. 

When they became friends, Rafael isn't certain, but days like today, when the rest of the squad only sees the win (and Rafael doesn't blame them a bit), it's good to know Sonny understands the emotional olympics that come with winning but not _really_ when you're the one trying the case.

"You know where we lost them," Rafael says. "Same place we lose a lot of juries. They have an idea about what a victim should sound like, what they should look like, and when the _survivor_ gets on the stand and doesn't break down, they think it couldn't have been 'that' traumatizing. And then they look at a defendant like we had, and they think maybe it was a miscommunication and _not_ a planned attack."

"He's so charming," Sonny says in falsetto. "A good-looking young man," said in a baritone.

Rafael laughs. It's a bit quiet and dry, but it's there. "Exactly," he agrees. 

"But you did the best you could with those factors," Sonny continues. "You put enough evidence in front of them, they couldn't let this guy wander away on probation. Seven years isn't twenty-five, but he'd never have gotten twenty-five anyway."

Rafael nods because it's true. No reason to pretend like the upper limits of prison times for rape cases don't get anywhere near twenty-five years unless the number of people assaulted is close. "They did recommend maximum sentencing."

"So, see, we've got something to drink to that's pretty okay."

Rafael can't help the snort he lets out. "Well, when you put it like that, it's almost a party."

"Now you're getting the idea. Just wish my lucky socks could have done better work."

Rafael's laugh is a bit fuller this time. "I thought you had more than one pair."

"I do. But I went with the pineapples today for extra help."

Rafael glances down. Sonny lifts his pant leg to show he is, in fact, wearing socks with pineapples. "And I get harassed for matching mine," he says.

"Just because people are jealous," Sonny says as he opens the door to exit the courthouse.

They make their way down the stairs in silence. Rafael's said as much as he needs at this point, and he's learned that Sonny's as happy chatting about any little thing with Amanda as he is walking in silence next to Rafael. 

They get to the sidewalk, and Sonny takes up position on the outside edge, turned slightly towards Rafael as they walk the half-mile to One Hogan Place. Rafael hasn't gotten a fresh set of death threats in months, but Sonny's never stopped taking position like there are new ones coming in every day. 

Rafael doesn't comment. It's nice in the way Sonny is nice. He's not trying to posture. He's not trying to scare Rafael. He just cares honestly and deeply, and Rafael's come to realize it's pretty damn nice to have someone like that as a friend. 

They're at the corner waiting for the light to change when there's a shriek of "SONNY CARISI!" and then an absolutely tiny woman with unnaturally bright red hair shoves aside two middle-aged men wearing Rangers jerseys and plants herself directly in front of Sonny. "You asshole!" she yelps, and Rafael can hear her Staten Island accent. She's beaming up at Sonny, and he's beaming down at her.

"Emma Marie!" Sonny shouts. He leans down and hugs her, then lifts her off the ground. She laughs loud and open and thumps him on the back. Sonny puts her back on her feet and immediately turns to Rafael. "Rafael, this is Emma Marie Martinez. We went to high school together. Em, this is--"

"Rafael Barba," Emma Marie supplies, holding out her hand. "I do watch the news, Sonny," she says, giving Sonny a long-suffering look.

"I'd hope so," he replies with a grin. "Emma Marie's a host on New York Public Radio," he tells Rafael. "She covers pretty much anything."

"Anything I can get away with," Emma Marie corrects. She waves her hand at Rafael. "We gonna shake, or you just gonna keep standing there with your mouth open?"

Rafael grasps her hand and shakes. "Sorry. Just came out of a trial."

"Yeah, I was in the gallery." She gives Sonny a faux-angry look. "Haven't seen you since Bella's baby shower, and you don't notice I'm in the room?"

"Sort of busy _watching_ the trial, E-M," Sonny replies. His grin is huge. "I testified, you know."

"I saw you. You looked good up there." She waggles her eyebrows at Rafael. "You looked pretty good, too."

Rafael chuckles. "I try."

"Sorry about the seven years. That sucks rocks," Emma Marie continues. "Lori's gonna bend my fucking ear when I get home tonight."

"How is she?" Sonny asks.

"She's all right. Second pregnancy finally stopped giving her morning sickness, so she likes being pregnant again. Your ma checked in on us and dropped off some food. Fuck knows my ma never will."

Sonny's face pulls in sympathy. "Still?"

"C'mon, Sonny. I'm Catholic _and_ Latin-Italian. Even if Lori was a Maury, she's just some HVAC tech and not a fancy DA. Can't be queer or blue collar in my generation." She flashes Rafael a grin. "You did all right with this one. He cooks like a fucking champ. Can't speak to his talent in bed."

"Neither--"

"I've had worse," Rafael interrupts Sonny, deadpan. Emma Marie throws her head back and laughs, so she misses the sharp look Sonny throws Rafael. Rafael shrugs in response. 

"Look, I just wanted to know I'd spotted you. I'll let you get back to wherever you were going." Emma Marie reaches into the back pocket of her jeans, then holds out a card. "I know you've got one, Mr. Detective. Hand it over so I don't have to yell your name in the street to talk to you again."

"Like that'll stop you," Sonny replies as he reaches into his suit jacket for his own card. He takes the pen Emma Marie pulls from her bra and jots his personal number on the back. "There. Now you can find me."

"Texting good?"

"Sure."

"All right, sending you one as soon as I'm on the train." Emma Marie opens her arms. "Get down here, you fucking noodle. I swear you're taller every time I see you."

"Nah, you're shrinking," Sonny replies, leaning down for her hug. 

Emma Marie hugs Sonny tight, then pulls away. She gives Rafael a grin and a wave. "You don't smell Staten Island Catholic, so I'll spare you the physical affection."

"Appreciate that," Rafael replies. He returns her wave. 

Emma Marie turns on her heel and walks down the block. When Rafael looks at Sonny, Sonny's watching her go with a soft smile on his face. "You two aren't exes," Rafael says.

"Only out lesbian and bi boy at St. Mary's," Sonny replies. "We teamed up in ninth grade and defended each other. I had enough height to be scary sometimes, but she's the one you gotta watch out for. She figured out how to body check someone into their locker by jumping off the opposite wall in the hallway."

"Wow," Rafael says, honestly impressed. "No wonder you like Rollins."

Sonny laughs. "Right? I knew immediately who she reminded me of."

They cross the street when the light changes. Rafael waits until they're out of the crowd of pedestrians before speaking again. "You haven't seen her since Bella's baby shower? That was awhile ago."

"She still lives on Staten Island. Lori wants the babies to have a yard to play in, and Emma Marie wants Lori and the babies to be happy. She also travels a lot for work. I'm here in Manhattan, and my schedule's a fucking mess, so we run into each other when we can and are happy to see each other."

"You never exchanged cards before now?"

"Probably," Sonny says with a shrug. "But if it was at Bella's baby shower, I'm lucky I made it home in one piece. Bella made me drink all the drinks she couldn't have."

"I don't have siblings, but that sounds like your baby sister tricked you."

"Always," Sonny agrees. 

They enter through the side door at One Hogan Place. The security guard greets them both by name and waves them through. They take the elevator up to Rafael's office. "Just want to check my messages," Rafael says. 

"Sure," Sonny replies. He takes out his phone as they step off the elevator, and he laughs. "Rollins says they've got a table and we need to get our asses over there. And Emma Marie's already texted me."

"Text her back," Rafael says as he pulls his keys from his pocket. "If you don't do it now, you'll forget."

"True," Sonny agrees. 

Rafael opens the door to his office to the sounds of Sonny tapping his phone. He walks to his desk and thumbs through the messages Carmen's left him while he's been in court. Nothing that needs his attention tonight. There are a few papers to sign, and Rafael takes care of those quickly.

"Leave your briefcase," Sonny says as Rafael reaches to pick it up. "It's Friday. The trial's over. Take a weekend off."

Rafael gives him a disbelieving look. "Are you serious?"

Sonny shrugs. "Why not? If you're not sitting down to answer those messages, there can't be anything hot on your plate right now. You would have told me on the way over."

Rafael can't disagree, even if leaving his briefcase tucked under his desk feels weird. "I need to leave these on Carmen's desk," he says, waving the papers.

"Sure," Sonny replies, and they leave Rafael's office together, Rafael being sure to lock up behind him.

*

They go to Forlini's, and it's fun. Having been able to let some of his frustration out with Sonny, it's easier for Rafael to take the congratulations and easy friendship the rest of the squad offers when he arrives. They drink and eat and drink some more, and when they start to peel off to go home, Rafael isn't surprised to find Sonny at his side.

"C'mon," Sonny says, "I'll pour you into a Lyft."

"I'm not drunk," Rafael replies because he's not. Buzzed, yes. But not drunk. "You can head out."

"You know I'm not gonna do that."

Rafael does, but he likes hearing Sonny say it. He lets Sonny cup his elbow and lead him to the sidewalk. The cool breeze sharpens his senses for a moment, and he laughs when Sonny reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket for his phone. "Don't get fresh."

Sonny chuckles as he unlocks Rafael's phone (and Rafael isn't sure when Sonny learned his code) and opens the Lyft app. "Driver will be here in a couple of minutes," Sonny says, handing the phone to Rafael. 

Rafael watches the tiny car on the map move towards them and takes deep, relaxing breaths as he waits. Sonny waits next to him, at ease in the moment. He'll take the subway home, Rafael knows. He always does. 

The Lyft pulls up, and Sonny's the one who opens the door and confirms the driver. Rafael makes a point to roll his eyes as he gets in. "Don't get stabbed on the subway," he says with faux-concern.

"Oh, come on. No one gets stabbed on the subway before two," Sonny replies with a grin. His gaze sweeps over Rafael to make sure he's safely in the car, and then Sonny shuts the door. 

*

Rafael spends the weekend doing laundry, reading a book, and generally relaxing. He occasionally feels guilty not to have his briefcase nearby to do work, but the guilt fades quickly every time he looks at the book he's finally had time to sit down with. 

He makes a mental note not to tell Sonny he was right about leaving his briefcase. He'd have to deal with pleased little smiles for weeks. 

*

Monday and Tuesday are quiet. Rafael negotiates two plea deals and starts outlining his needs for the next trial. On Wednesday morning, as Rafael is pouring his second cup of coffee, Carmen clicks on the intercom and says, "I have an Emma Marie Martinez on the line for you, Sir." 

Rafael stares at the intercom for a moment. "What?"

"Emma Marie Martinez," Carmen repeats, though she sounds faintly amused this time. "She says she needs you to--and I quote--kick Sonny in his tiny ass."

"Send it through," Rafael says, letting his own amusement color his voice. 

The phone rings a moment later. Rafael picks it up. "Ms. Martinez."

"Ugh. No. Emma Marie or E-M or nothing," Emma Marie replies. "Let's not pretend like you think I stand on ceremony."

"I wouldn't dare," Rafael says as he sits in his desk chair. "Why do you need my help to kick Sonny's tiny ass?"

Emma Marie sighs deeply. "I checked my Facebook on Monday morning, and the St. Mary's class of 1999 had posted an update about having a twentieth reunion."

"You follow your class reunion Facebook page?"

"I've got a serious case of batshit syndrome that doctors can't cure. Watching a bunch of conservative Catholics talk about getting older while trying to justify why they still think about their high school days soothes my angry lesbian soul."

Rafael chuckles. "I get it. But why are you calling me about this reunion?"

"Because I texted Sonny about it, and he says he's not going, and by fucking god, if I'm showing up with Lori and her big lesbian baby bump, that bisexual disaster can roll his ass onto Staten Island in a show of support with his hot piece lawyer boyfriend."

Rafael can't speak for a moment. "I think you--"

"Sonny tells me you're not his boyfriend, and I believe him," Emma Marie interrupts before Rafael can finish. "I'd say it's on me for assuming, but you played into the assumption when I made it to your face."

"I was fucking with Sonny," Rafael replies.

"A pastime I greatly appreciate," Emma Marie says. "But one of the reasons Sonny gave me for _not_ showing up at the reunion is that he _doesn't_ have a hot lawyer boyfriend or hot lawyer girlfriend, and frankly, that's bullshit. Unless his ma lied to me about his passing the bar."

"He passed," Rafael says. "First try, even."

"I did a series of shows about the New York bar exam and the ways it can affect mental health," Emma Marie replies. "It's serious fucking business when you're _not_ working full-time, especially as a detective in rape cases, whose overall win numbers are noticeably lower than other specialities."

"True," Rafael agrees, more to say something than to add anything useful to the conversation.

"So, I'm calling you to ask you to kick Sonny in his tiny ass for thinking he needs a hot lawyer anything to impress those jack-off fuckheads we grew up with."

"You're overestimating my powers of persuasion with him."

"Am I?" Emma Marie's tone makes it clear she doesn't think so. "Look, I'm not saying prepare a three-minute speech. Just tell him I called you and asked you to harass him into going to this thing. I need back up."

"What," Rafael replies, unable to stop himself, "was it difficult to be the only non-Anglo looking Catholic in a Catholic school on Staten Island twenty years ago?"

Emma Marie laughs. "And gay as shit to boot. Any chance your mom will like me? I'm trying to collect a few."

"My mother would fucking adore you. What's your email? You can send her pictures of your children so she'll shut up to me about grandchildren."

"Let's not pretend it'll shut her up," Emma Marie says, then gives Rafael her email address.

*

_Rafael_ : Emma Marie says I have to kick your tiny ass into going to your reunion.

_Sonny_ : What? How did she even get hold of you???

_Rafael_ : She called the office.

_Sonny_ : Ugh. Sorry. 

_Rafael_ : It's fine. I like her.

_Sonny_ : Yeah, she's great, but I really don't want to go to my reunion.

_Rafael_ : Buy me lunch, and I'll listen to your complaints.

_Sonny_ : Wow. Look at this friendship we have. Me having to bribe you to listen to my problems.

_Rafael_ : Hey, at least I'm up front about it. 

*

They meet for a late lunch at a deli a few doors down from One Hogan Place. The people behind the counter greet Rafael and Sonny by name and immediately start making their usual orders.

"I'm suddenly concerned we eat here too much," Rafael says.

"If the food were worse, I might mind," Sonny replies. 

They pay and take a seat at a little table against the wall that lets them both keep an eye on the door. Sonny--per the usual--drowns his fries in ketchup before picking up his sandwich and taking a bite. Rafael shakes his head when Sonny nods at his sandwich like they're having a conversation.

"Don't tell me how good it is," Rafael says while Sonny chews. "You get the same thing every time, and you tell me every time it's the best one you've ever had."

Sonny points a finger at Rafael as he swallows his bite. "Look, salami is an art, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Rafael replies, taking a bite of his own turkey and swiss while Sonny mock-glares at him.

"If it's too salty, it throws off the whole meal," Sonny says. "If it's not salty enough, it doesn't bring that extra flavor that works with the other ingredients."

"Like I said, you tell me every time."

Sonny grins and shrugs. "Well, it keeps being true."

Rafael chuckles and takes a sip of his drink. "Okay, you've paid for my lunch. Why don't you want to go to your reunion?"

Sonny pulls a face. "Would you go?"

"Nope. Never been. Never will. But it's surprising to me that you're not going."

"Why? Because I'm such a _nice_ guy?" Sonny asks with an exaggerated smile. "That Sonny Carisi, he's the best!"

Rafael can only stare for a moment. "Wow."

Sonny slumps over his sandwich. "Sorry. I don't mean to be an asshole about it. It's just…" he shrugs. "I dunno. High school wasn't great. I had Emma Marie and a few other people, but mostly it was me taking shit for one thing or another."

"Being bi?"

"Less than you'd think, honestly. I was out, but I didn't date a lot, so people could sort of see me as sexless, you know? Emma Marie took way more shit than me because she dated _and_ she refused to listen to anyone get on her case about how being a lesbian meant she couldn't have kids."

"She mentioned she was bringing Lori. It sounded like a fuck you," Rafael says. 

Sonny chuckles. "Most of what Emma Marie says sounds like a fuck you. And, man, I think it's great she's going and taking Lori and they can be together at something like that, you know? When we were in high school, the idea that we could come back as adults with same-gender partners we could _marry_? It's nuts. If I was dating someone--" Sonny cuts himself off and quickly eats a few french fries. 

"So, is this about bullies or is this about being single? Or is it both?" Rafael asks as Sonny stares at his fries. 

Sonny sighs and leans back in his chair, dropping his sandwich onto his plate. "Honestly, it's both, and that's stupid. I mean, it's just a lot to consider. I had to undo a lot of toxic shit after high school. I was in therapy for years before I started up again after nearly being shot." 

Rafael manages to nod. He's impressed Sonny can say it so calmly. He'd had issues even vocalizing it at first, referring to it as 'you know' and other vague titles. "You mentioned when you went back that you'd been before," he says. "But you never said you went in the first place because of bullying."

"I went in the first place because I wanted to like myself as much as I pretended to like myself, and working on that showed me how much I'd been bullied and how much it affected me, but I didn't _go_ for the bullying, if that makes sense."

"It does," Rafael replies. "Therapy's all about finding out the real reason you're there, right?"

Sonny grins, it's a little dim, but it's honest. "Yeah. And I know I'm a good person now, you know? I don't doubt myself like I used to. I haven't for years. But it's one thing to know that and another to decide if I really want to be in a room with those people again."

"Does Emma Marie know about your therapy?"

"I think I told her about it at some point but not about all the stuff I learned."

"So, she's not pulling a dick move by trying to get you to go to the reunion with her?"

Sonny looks shocked. "What? No! Rafael!"

Rafael gives Sonny a pointed look. "I'm just checking. If you told me you'd told her everything, and she was still pushing you to go with her, I'd say skip it and tell her to mind her own business."

Sonny picks up his sandwich and takes a bite. He chews slowly, like he's thinking. "She doesn't know, so she can't be trying to pressure me knowing all my feelings on it, you're gonna say I should go?"

"Maybe. You said you had a few other friends. Are they going? How long's it been since you've seen them? Have you actually kept up with any of them?"

"A couple, yeah. I don't know if they're going. I'd have to ask."

"Do that and take it into consideration." Rafael gives Sonny a quick, wicked grin. "And don't underestimate how good it might feel to walk into that room just to brag. 'Oh, hi, yeah, it's me, Sonny. I'm a decorated cop, and I passed the bar, so I'm a lawyer, and yes, I am in this good of shape at thirty-eight.'"

Sonny grins at Rafael's terrible Staten Island accent, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Still single, though," he says. 

"So?"

Sonny rolls his eyes, though it's clearly at himself. "I thought I'd be married by now, all right? Or at least in a serious relationship. Usually, it doesn't bother me, but I know a lot of the people I wanna stick it to who are gonna be there are gonna be married."

"I'm sure at least a few of them aren't _happily_ married."

Sonny snorts. The smile reaches his eyes this time. "Still got there before I did."

Rafael almost says 'So, what?' but he stops himself. He takes a sip of his drink so he can decide what to say next. "Did you get shit for not dating?"

"I got shit for being a stringbean," Sonny replies. He waves a hand at his himself. "This whole look hit when I was fourteen. I ran track and was on the swim team because I thought I'd bulk up, but, well," he waves a hand at himself again. "This is the bulkiest I've ever been."

"Good lord," Rafael says, picturing it. Sonny in a track uniform, all legs and knobby knees. Sonny in the water, arms sinewy and chest probably close to concave. He can't help his smile at the image. "Jesus, you must have been adorable."

"Oh, fuck you," Sonny replies, but he's chuckling. "So, yeah, a lot of what I got was about how weird I looked. How no one wanted to date me because I was so awkward to look at. I know _now_ that's not true. I turned out all right, and even in high school, it wasn't true. I mean, maybe people didn't date me because I was awkward looking, but I know now I wasn't the only one." 

"But showing up single makes you think the bullies win, right?"

"Right," Sonny agrees. He sighs. "I should be over this."

"Oh, that old story," Rafael replies. "Come on. You know how this works better than most. We can do all kinds of work to handle our trauma, but it doesn't make it go away."

"Yeah, yeah."

Rafael can't help his smile. "That's the spirit." 

Sonny gives him an annoyed look and takes an extra-large bite of his sandwich. Rafael doesn't try to goad him into speaking. He takes a couple bites of his own sandwich and thinks over Sonny's problem. He doesn't want to show up single, but Rafael saw the way his eyes lit up at the idea of showing up to brag. And Rafael is certain Sonny wants to show up just to see those few friends he remembers. It's how he's wired: to always care and be curious about those he's cared about. Rafael admires it, the way Sonny can be kind but not naive.

The problem, then, is that Sonny doesn't have a date. And, really, it's not a date he wants, but a partner. A spouse. Someone who knows him well enough that a standing relationship is obvious in the way they interact with each other. 

Rafael actually drops his sandwich when he realizes the answer. Sonny gives him a quizzical look, but Rafael holds up a hand before Sonny can speak. "Emma Marie thought we were dating," he says. 

"Yeah, I was there, and I also explained to her we weren't," Sonny replies, confused. 

"But what if we were?"

Sonny jerks back. "What? Raf--"

"No, I mean for the reunion," Rafael interrupts before Sonny can finish his thought. "You want to show up and brag, but you don't want to show up single. You need someone who can pose as a date. Emma Marie thought we were dating without even speaking to me. Seems like I could pass muster for people who don't know you nearly as well." 

"I don't think that's an actual answer to the problem," Sonny says slowly.

"Why not? We'll both know it's fake. We can tell Emma Marie we're going to do it. She strikes me as the type to be supportive of an effort to fuck with your old bullies."

"She is." 

"Then she won't give it away. If any of the other people you liked in high school are going to this thing, just introduce me as your boyfriend and then tell them we broke up but stayed friends if they ask later."

Sonny shakes his head. "That's ridiculous."

"High school reunions are ridiculous. The idea that you give a shit about everyone you went to school with all these years later, especially in the age of social media? Come on. If Emma Marie hadn't told you she was going, you probably wouldn't have known. But now you know, and you want to go and get some petty revenge, and I think we can both agree I enjoy petty revenge."

"But posing as my boyfriend? Really?"

"It'll let you go and show those assholes you're as happy as you really are. They think you need a romantic relationship for that, so why not feed into their narrow view of the world and really enjoy the experience?"

Sonny still looks skeptical, but he's also looking intrigued. "This is a really dumb idea," he says. "But I think I sort of like it."

"Petty revenge is a powerful drug," Rafael replies. "I know you do your best to be the nicest person to ever exist in this city, but let yourself have this."

"Treat myself?" Sonny asks with a grin.

Rafael grins in return and shrugs. "Why not? You've sure as hell earned it."

Sonny shakes his head. "Maybe," he says. "Let me think about it."

"It's an open offer," Rafael replies, and they get back to their lunch. 

*

_Emma Marie_ : You're playing boyfriend for Sonny for the reunion?

_Rafael_ : Yes.

_Emma Marie_ : And he says it was your idea.

_Rafael:_ Petty revenge is a speciality.

_Emma Marie_ : Uh-huh. 

_Emma Marie_ : I think you may have completely redefined the meaning of soft bro.

_Rafael_ : Is that good?

_Emma Marie_ : Let's see how you do on the spot.

*

Two nights before the reunion, Sonny comes over to Rafael's with a two bags full of groceries so he can cook while they get their stories straight. "You're gonna fake being my boyfriend, I have to cook for you at least once," Sonny said when Rafael tried to tell him cooking was unnecessary. He's had plenty of Sonny's food in the past; he makes a full meal for the squad at least every few weeks, but Sonny's never cooked for him before, and a hot meal sounds nice.

"I'll open a red," Rafael says after Sonny unpacks steaks and potatoes and broccolini. 

"I brought a white for dessert," Sonny replies, taking a white bakery box out of the second bag. He pulls a two bottles of sparkling white wine out after it. "It's a cheesecake. Put it in the fridge?"

As he does so, Rafael realizes the bakery box isn't stamped with a store logo. "Where'd you get this?" he asks. 

"Made it the other night," Sonny replies like it's the obvious answer for a man who works eighty hours a week. "It's one of your favorites," and that's said in the same tone. 

Rafael stares at the bakery box for a moment before turning and grabbing the wine bottles to put in the door of the fridge. Sonny's never cooked for him, but he's been paying attention. Rafael knows that Sonny is the type to just pick up details on people and store them away, but there's knowing and there's _knowing_.

"If you don't like your steak medium rare, you need to leave," Sonny says. 

"It's my apartment," Rafael replies with a laugh.

"Good, then you know the way to the door." Sonny flashes him a quick smile. "Cutting boards?"

Rafael takes them out of their drawer and passes them over. Sonny puts the steaks on the red board, and then puts the vegetables on the green board. Rafael hands him a knife for slicing the vegetables before he can ask.

"Home fries all right with you?"

"Sure," Rafael replies. He stands in his own kitchen and feels lost for a moment before he realizes he could be opening wine. Sonny's already cut a potato into slices and is holding it together as he turns it into cubes. 

Rafael pulls out wine glasses and opens the red. He sticks an aerator in the mouth of the bottle and pours a good-sized glass for them both. "At your elbow," he says to Sonny as he sets the glass to his left.

"Thanks," Sonny murmurs, eyes down as he cubes another potato. "I need a skillet on medium heat with olive oil."

"You have grand ideas about my kitchen," Rafael replies as he pulls out a skillet and opens the cabinet above the stove to retrieve the olive oil. He flicks on the burner and drizzles oil in the pan. "Salt or pepper?"

"Not until the potatoes are in," Sonny replies. "I'm going to need a second skillet for the steak."

"What if I don't have one?"

"Like I said, you know the way to the door."

Rafael laughs and takes out his second skillet. He sets it up with oil and medium heat, then picks up his wine and steps out of the kitchen to take a seat on the other side of the island. "I'll leave the rest to you."

Sonny chuckles as he cuts the broccolini stalks down the middle. "It won't take much from here." He puts down the knife and takes a drink of his wine, smiling as he tastes it. "This is nice."

"Thanks," Rafael replies. "It's a favorite."

"I can see why." Sonny takes a second sip, then sets down the glass and goes back to the broccolini. "How did we meet?" he asks. 

"At work, of course," Rafael replies. He's thought about this some, finding the points in their history where the two of them could have easily gone from friendship to romance. "I wasn't into you at first because your mustache was a crime in and of itself, but you grew on me."

"Like a fungus." Sonny flashes Rafael a quick grin. "And I respected you from the start, but it took awhile before you seemed to take me seriously."

Rafael nods. It's all true, which makes it that much easier to fold into a different narrative. "We were colleagues only until you shadowed me, and then we started to become friends." As he says it, Rafael realizes it's true. He glances at Sonny, but Sonny's turned mostly away from him, dropping the potatoes into their pan. 

"And after that, things just sort of built," Sonny replies. He opens and closes drawers until he finds a spatula, and he uses it to move the potatoes around. "But when did we start dating?"

"The death threats," Rafael says without thinking, and it hits him hard and low as only a hidden truth can that he's not picking that moment out of thin air. He has a flash of memory. Sonny in his uniform. Rafael terrified and trying to play it off. Mike Dodds dead and just buried, and there's Sonny taking the time to tell him he's safe. That the squad has his back. That Sonny himself will make sure no one gets near him. Rafael telling Sonny he feels safe right where he is. It wasn't a lie. With Sonny blocking the view of the room and giving Rafael an open, honest look of compassion, Rafael had felt completely secure. 

He comes back to himself in a rush as Sonny lays the steaks in their pan and they sizzle loudly. Rafael stares at Sonny's back and realizes in a sudden, hard clench of his stomach, that he's maybe a little in love. 

He takes a very large drink of wine. 

Sonny turns around a few seconds later, cocking his head at Rafael. "You sure you wanna put your death threats on the table like that? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable by bringing them up."

"It's been years," Rafael replies because it's true, though Sonny's consideration is jerking his stomach even tighter. "I'll be okay."

"If you're sure," Sonny replies. There's a _pop_ from the stovetop, and he glances over his shoulder. Whatever's making noise isn't enough to keep his attention. He turns back to Rafael with a grin and picks up his wine. "So, who bought dinner the first time?"

"You insisted," Rafael says because Sonny _would_. "We went to a dive bar you know and had burgers and fries and beers." Because Sonny _would_. "Then you made sure I got in a Lyft and took the subway home." Because Sonny does. Sonny always _does_.

"I like it," Sonny says with a grin. His face goes serious a moment later. "You're still okay with this, right? I really don't want you to feel like you have to spend a night lying on my behalf."

It's not lying, Rafael thinks. Well, the status of their relationships is definitely false. But the actual emotional requirements to dating Sonny? The proof of those are getting listed in Rafael's head almost faster than he can see them. 

Sonny always takes the time to ask how he's doing and absolutely cares about the answer.

When Sonny makes food for the squad, there's always enough for Rafael to get his share. 

Sonny understands the frustration of winning but not _winning_ a case.

Sonny laughs at Rafael's sarcasm and quips back when Rafael tries to goad him. Sonny brings him coffees and asks about his mother and knows Carmen's birthday. And he _cooks_. 

There's another _pop_ from the stove, and this time, Sonny turns to deal with it. Rafael uses the moment to take a deep breath and try to center himself. 

"I'm serious about you backing out," Sonny says over his shoulder. "I promised Emma Marie I'd be there, and if you're uncomfortable, I can go it alone."

"I'm not uncomfortable," Rafael gets out. It's true. He's not _uncomfortable_. He's _confused_. How the hell did this sneak up on him like this? He can't think about this right now. It's too much to handle as Sonny flips the steaks and pokes at the potatoes and looks comfortable and easy in Rafael's kitchen even though this is the first time he's been here as a friend.

"Okay," Sonny says, turning back around. He leans on the counter and gives Rafael a cheeky grin. "How'd you wow me on our second date?"

"I took you dancing. You didn't know I could waltz." It comes out of nowhere, but Rafael can picture it perfectly.

Sonny laughs in surprise. "No way! You can waltz?!"

"I'm sure you had the same terrible dance classes at church that I had to go to," Rafael replies.

"Well, yeah, but I don't remember any of that. Not really." Sonny straightens up and walks around the counter. He holds a hand out to Rafael. "Come on. Show me how to do it." 

"I don't think anyone will expect us to prove we know how to waltz," Rafael says, proud his voice doesn't waver.

Sonny wiggles his fingers. "Just for fun," he says.

Rafael takes his hand and stands up. He feels vaguely like he's outside his body, watching the action and wondering what the hell he's doing. "I'll lead since I know what I'm doing."

"Sure," Sonny replies. He places his hand on Rafael's shoulder, his forearm pressing against Rafael's bicep. 

Rafael slides his hand around Sonny's waist and has to think hard for a moment before he starts giving instruction. It should be weird to do this. It should be clumsy and ridiculous, but Sonny takes his instructions well and lets Rafael lead him in a small circle around the living room. 

"Oh, yeah, I remember this now," Sonny says as they start a second rotation.

"You want to try leading?" Rafael asks without thinking. 

"I apologize ahead of time if I step on you," Sonny replies.

They shift their arms, Rafael's coming to Sonny's shoulder and Sonny's coming around his waist. Sonny adjusts his arm so it's diagonal across Rafael's back, his palm pressing between his shoulder blades like it had when they left court a few days before. Every single touch Sonny's ever put on him comes back to Rafael in a rush. 

The hand between the shoulder blades when they walk side by side.

The light tap with the back of his fingers against his chest when he's being especially acerbic. 

The barely there touches to get around his chair when Sonny shadowed him on the Hodda case.

Sonny leads them in another circle around the living room, and beams at Rafael when he brings them to a stop by the kitchen counter. "That wasn't bad," he says. 

"No, it wasn't," Rafael replies on auto-pilot. He watches Sonny turn and take the steaks from their pan, setting them on the cutting board to rest. Rafael opens his mouth to say...something. But he doesn't know what. He thinks back on so many moments they've had together, and he sees Sonny smiling. Sonny leaning in. Sonny defending him. Sonny arguing law. Sonny rolling his eyes or greeting him with a wave or calling goodbye over his shoulder. Sonny showing him ultrasound pictures of Bella's baby or asking his opinion on an article in the law review. Sonny laughing when Rafael gets a disgusted look on his face when he catches him reading a true crime book. Sonny making sure he gets invited out for drinks and sitting next to him all night, getting Rafael's drinks for him because he's getting a refill anyway. 

Rafael thinks back on all of this and wonders, if maybe, Sonny is a little in love with him, too. 

He takes a deep breath and debates if he should ask. But how to even start that question? 

"Hey, grab plates, will you? We're about ready to go," Sonny says as he turns the potatoes and broccolini with a spatula.

Rafael gets the plates from the cupboard and puts them on the counter. He takes out silverware and carries it over to his small dining table. He lays it out, then carries over both their wine glasses and then the wine itself. Sonny brings over both their plates and sets them down, making sure Rafael sits down first before taking the other chair. 

"Eat up while it's warm," Sonny says. "We can make up the rest of the story over dessert."

Rafael nods and cuts into his steak. Eating will give him time to think, to adjust. Maybe by the time Sonny takes out dessert, Rafael will have figured out how to ask Sonny if he's ever thought about dating.

*

Rafael doesn't figure it out by dessert. Or after. He and Sonny plot a solid narrative of their relationship: Third date is dinner and a movie (the movie was terrible). On their fourth date, Sonny asks Rafael to be exclusive. On their three-month anniversary, Rafael gives Sonny a key, and for their sixth-month, they spend a weekend on Coney Island eating cotton candy and riding the Ferris Wheel and buying tacky souvenirs like they're tourists. 

It spools out from there. They've met each other's families. They've spent holidays together. They haven't moved in yet because they're waiting for just the right place. They're out at work, and everyone's glad about it.

By the time they finish planning, they're halfway through the second bottle of white, and Rafael is laid out on the couch and staring at his ceiling, wondering if everything they've planned could actually happen.

"Did we miss anything?" Sonny asks. He's lazing in Rafael's recliner, legs akimbo and looking for all the world like he sits there all the time. 

"We never did decide if we're getting a dog," Rafael replies, and Sonny's laugh makes him chuckle. 

"I really do appreciate this," Sonny says. "I'll make you dinner the week after, okay? To say thanks."

"You don't have to."

"I know, but I want you to know I appreciate it. You pick something you like and let me know. I'll come over and make it, and we can hang out again."

Rafael nods slowly, still staring at his ceiling. "Okay," he says, feeling like maybe he's making a very dumb decision, but given the night he's had, what's one more. "I'll figure it out."

*

_Unknown Number_ : Sonny's run me through your fake history. I like it. Very cute. Very queer.

_Rafael_ : E-M?

_Unknown Number_ : Yeah.

_Rafael_ How the hell did you get my number?

_Unknown Number_ : Your mother.

_Unknown Number_ : She's fucking boss, FYI.

_Rafael_ : She's amazing. 

_Unknown Number_ : She thought you and Sonny were dating, BTW.

_Rafael_ : WHAT. 

_Unknown Number_ : Yeah. She asked me if I'd met that tall detective you always talk about. 

_Rafael_ : I need to lie down. 

_Unknown Number_ : I didn't tell her anything about this whole fake boyfriend thing. I also didn't tell her that you totally played into the idea that you and Sonny were dating when I asked. You owe me an interview.

_Rafael_ : An interview?

_Unknown Number_ : I did my homework. You're first generation Cuban-American. You're out publicly. You grew up poor as hell but got into Harvard and have maintained a firm hold on your Latino identity while working for the city and climbing the ranks as a prosecutor. You have willingly chosen to stay a special victims' prosecutor because you believe in the work and helping set precedent for rape and abuse victims. You're a popular favorite to get elected to DA if Jack McCoy ever dies in his office.

_Rafael_ : "Popular favorite"? 

_Unknown Number_ : There have been some casual polls over the years as your name has gotten recognizable. You have a fan club. 

_Rafael_ : You're buttering me up for an interview.

_Unknown Number_ : Fuck that. I'm getting an interview because I covered for you to your mother. Everything I've just said to you is true. 

_Rafael_ : I'm ending this conversation because I have to get dressed for the high school reunion I got tricked into.

_Unknown Number_ : First of all, bullshit. Sonny told me YOU offered to help HIM and second of all, Sonny really likes you in purple. Not that you heard that from me.

_Rafael_ : I don't get your meaning.

_Unknown Number_ : Don't you???

*

Rafael dresses in a slate gray suit with a subtle check pattern. He pairs it with a cornflower shirt and an eggplant-purple tie. His pocket square is also eggplant, with a yellow edge stitching that matches the yellow of his suspenders. He's reaching for a pair of burgundy brown Oxfords when there's a knock on his door. 

Sonny grins when Rafael opens the door. He's wearing a navy suit with a cream shirt and a white tie patterned with light blue squares. The blue doesn't quite match his eyes, but it makes them stand out. He holds out a small box to Rafael and says, "I'm gonna go ahead and brag that I picked well."

Rafael takes the box and steps aside to let Sonny step inside. He opens the box and can't help his chuckle. It's a pair of socks, yellow with eggplant purple pinstripes.

"I just meant them as a way to say thanks for tonight," Sonny says. "Don't feel like you have to wear them."

"How can I not?" Rafael replies, taking the socks from their box. He walks back to his bedroom to get his shoes, and then walks back into the living room. Sonny's leaning against the kitchen counter, hands in his pockets and looking...nervous? "You okay?" Rafael asks as he sits to put on his new socks and his shoes. "Are these unlucky socks?"

Sonny straightens up "What? No. I wouldn't get you unlucky socks. What kind of guy do you think I am?" The joke doesn't land. The way Sonny pulls his cuffs and smoothes his jacket reminds Rafael of Sonny preparing to step into the courtroom when he shadowed him, as if the hint of a wrinkle may make him untrustworthy to a jury. "But, yeah. I'm a little nervous. Sort of hit me on the way over here how dumb this is," Sonny continues.

"Dumb?" Rafael asks. He puts his first sock on the wrong way around, the heel over his instep. He has to take it off, turn it around, and put it on correctly.

"Faking this," Sonny says. "It's just so much to ask of you."

"I offered," Rafael replies. "You didn't goad me into this or anything similar."

"You're sure?"

Rafael straightens up, his second sock in his hands, and he gives Sonny a hard look. "What about yourself do you think is so unappealing I'd offer to play your boyfriend under duress?"

"I don't--" Sonny bites his bottom lip and looks away, staring at the far wall of Rafael's apartment like there's anything there besides the beige paint. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable," he says to the beige wall.

"Sonny," Rafael says, and he waits for Sonny to look at him before continuing. "I offered to do this because I like you. I'm willing to do this because you deserve to walk into that room and have someone on your arm. I know what it's like to want to get revenge on your bullies, and I'm glad to help you out. You didn't have to bring me socks--which I love, by the way--and you don't have to cook me dinner next week. I'm holding you to dinner because you're a great cook. Not because you owe me for something _I_ offered to do for _you_." 

Sonny breathes in and breathes out hard. He nods with more energy than it should require. "You're my friend, and you're happy to help me."

"Yes," Rafael says. "And I'm sure this is a speech you've given to other people plenty of times." Sonny's wide, unconscious grin makes Rafael's hands shake. He has to stare hard at his foot to get his sock on correctly.

"Get your shoes on," Sonny says after a few moments of silence. "There's an open bar with watered-down drinks with our name on it."

"You know how to show your boyfriend a good time," Rafael replies, and he's proud that he manages to tie his laces without slipping over his own fingers. 

*

The reunion is being held in the St. Mary's cafeteria, and Rafael can't help but smile when they walk in. It looks exactly like the cafeteria he had lunch in for thirteen years in the Bronx, and when he tells Sonny the same, Sonny laughs and squeezes Rafael's arm.

Sonny's been holding his arm since they arrived, curling his long fingers around the fragile space of Rafael's inner elbow like they've done this a hundred times. Rafael would be bothered by how familiar it feels to have Sonny's hand there, but he's spent plenty of time over-analyzing his affection for Sonny this week, so when it happened, he simply rolled with it.

The cafeteria is decorated with the obligatory crepe paper streamers and multi-colored balloons. The far wall from the entrance has blown-up senior portraits. To the left of those is a collection of blank squares. People are expected to fill in the name of someone they remember and place it under the photo they think belongs to that person.

"You look exactly the same," Rafael says to Sonny as they walk to the refreshment table. 

"Oh, come on," Sonny replies, looking mildly offended. "I like to think my neck filled out at least."

Rafael looks back at the photo. The Sonny in the photo is painfully teenage-thin, but the smile and the eyes are the same. The less said about his hair the better. His Adam's apple sticks out like a bad puppeteer has misplaced his thumb. "I can agree your neck has filled out," Rafael says. "And your hair is better."

"Oh, good, we don't have to have a breakup meltdown in front of all these people," Sonny replies as he chooses a few warmed-over appetizers to put on the small paper plate he's holding. "Wanna grab us a drink from the bar?"

"Sure," Rafael agrees because there's nothing on the buffet that's bad enough for him to ask Sonny to leave off his plate. The bar--just to the right of the buffet--is well-stocked. Rafael orders a passable scotch for himself and a decent white wine for Sonny. He sees no reason to go fancy unless he ends up ordering drinks next to one of Sonny's former bullies. 

When Rafael gets back to Sonny, Sonny has two small plates loaded with snacks. "Table?" Rafael asks, and he leads them to an empty one at Sonny's nod. The tables are circular with eight chairs apiece. The centerpieces are green and yellow dyed carnations, and there's a pirate pattern on the plastic tablecloths. Rafael doesn't have to ask why. The lurid mural on the far wall explains it. It's a pirate in green and yellow, a football tucked into one arm, a sword in the other. He's charging down a field, and he has a peg leg. 

"Wow," Rafael says as he tries to take in the details, "I've known you how long and you never mentioned that thing?"

"Describing it second-hand wouldn't do it justice," Sonny replies.

"Fair."

A man and woman sit down at their table. The woman smiles politely. "Okay, which one of you did I go to school with?" she asks as the man starts working his way methodically through a pile of appetizers.

Rafael does _not_ give a pointed look around the room at the currently only-white attendees. "That'd be him," Rafael says, gesturing to Sonny. "I was in Catholic school in the Bronx."

The woman chuckles. "Well, it's the same rules everywhere, right?" She holds out her hand to Sonny. "Nicolette Esposito."

Sonny shakes her hand. "Sonny Carisi. Think we had calc together?"

Her eyes light up. "Oh, right! I remember you! You're the only reason I passed!"

"Nah, that's not true," Sonny replies. "It was a big study group."

"It was, and you were the only one who had the patience for me being absolutely useless at calc." She turns to Rafael, her smile much warmer than a few moments before. "The only reason I stayed on the cheerleading squad junior year was because he helped me out so much. I'm sorry, I didn't get your name." 

"Rafael Barba. Sonny's boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you!" She squeezes his hand when they shake. "And what do you do, Rafael?"

"I'm a DA in Manhattan," Rafael answers, leaning back in his chair so he can put an arm around Sonny's shoulders. "Sonny's a detective."

"In Manhattan, too?" Nicolette asks Sonny. She leans forward with interest when Sonny nods. "Is that where you met?"

"It is," Sonny answers. "Rafael had been working with the squad for a couple of years before I joined."

"Was it love at first sight?" Nicolette glances at the man sitting next to her. He's still working through the appetizers, but he pauses to smile at her. "It was with Rick. Spotted him in my English 110 class at NYU, and I was done." Rick gives her another smile. Nicolette turns back to Sonny and Rafael. "I promised him if he came out with me, I wouldn't make him make small talk."

"Not my thing," Rick says, his voice quiet.

"And I can handle enough of it for two people anyway," Nicolette adds, laughing at her own joke. She sees someone across the room and yelps. "Oh! It's Tara!"

"Let's go say hi," Rick says. He nods a goodbye to Sonny and Rafael who return it. 

"They're nice," Rafael says.

"Yeah," Sonny replies. He looks around the room, not seeming to focus on anyone in particular. "Maybe I'll get lucky and all the assholes I knew don't show up."

*

Sonny doesn't get lucky. Fifteen minutes later, as he's standing up to get them both some water, someone yells "GREASY CARISI!" and Sonny looks pained. "Fuck," he mutters.

Rafael's on his feet without thinking, his hand going to Sonny's back as a man in a badly fitted suit and slicked back blonde hair walks up to Sonny and punches him none-to-lightly on the shoulder. "Holy shit! Greasy Carisi in the flesh again! You look exactly the same, man!" He glances around him at the small crowd of men who have followed him over from wherever he'd previously been in the room, making sure they're paying attention to him.

"Gary," Sonny says in an even tone Rafael knows means Sonny's trying to hold his temper in check. "Nice to see you."

"Rafael Barba," Rafael interjects, sticking his hand between Sonny and Gary before Gary can say anything else. "Sonny's boyfriend. I don't think he's ever mentioned a Gary."

Gary stares at Rafael like he's just noticed him."Boyfriend?" He looks back at Sonny, eyes comically wide. "You date dudes?"

Rafael feels Sonny tense under his hand. Sonny's eyes go hard, and Rafael watches Gary complete miss the change. "I've been dating dudes since high school, Gary. I'm surprised you forgot, with all the shit you and your friends gave me about it."

"What? When did we give you shit?" Gary presses a hand to his chest, looking mortally offended."You mean the nickname? Come on! We were kidding! Like Greasy Carisi!"

"Yeah, Sonny Fag-Risi was a real fun time," Sonny deadpans. 

Rafael clenches his hand in the back of Sonny's jacket. "Wait. He _did_ mention you," Rafael says. "Something about an under-achieving homophobic bore who played football badly."

"Hey, hey," Gary says, glaring at Rafael like he's the one being rude, "we're all friends here."

"We're not," Sonny says. "We weren't. Not ever."

"Oh, come on, you're gonna hang it over my head because I said some dumb shit back in high school? Who does that?"

"People who are bullied," Sonny answers. "By assholes like you. You know what I do for a living, Gary?"

"Interior decorating?" Gary asks, a sneer taking over his face. 

Rafael makes a point to roll his eyes as obviously as possible. "Wow."

"I'm a cop," Sonny says. "In Manhattan. With special victims. Which means I've gone on more than one call where a kid's killed themself because some other kid's been raised to be an asshole and told it's okay to bully whoever they perceive as weaker because their dads never learned about healthy masculinity."

"Healthy masculinity," Gary says, mugging it up for the guys around him. A couple of them laugh. One takes a step away, like being physically close to Gary is making him uncomfortable. "What's next, Greasy, gonna explain how all men should be feminists?"

"No, I'm going to leave this conversation because you're boring," Sonny replies. "My ma still talks to your ma, Gary. I know what you've been up to."

"Used car salesman," Rafael guesses, meeting Gary's glare with a flat look.

"That requires charm," Sonny says to Rafael as he wraps his arm around Rafael's waist. "No, good old Gary here got banned from coaching Pee Wee sports in all of New York State because he screamed at his athletes and got busted betting against his teams."

"Not a good look," Rafael replies, putting his whole focus on Sonny. 

Sonny smiles at him, taking in Rafael in a glance. "No, but you look great."

"Well, you helped with my socks," Rafael says.

"Come on. We were getting drinks." Sonny steps around Gary and his crowd, not giving them a backward look as he and Rafael walk over to the bar. 

"You okay?" Rafael asks in an undertone. 

Sonny laughs under his breath. "I can't believe I did that. Gary was the ringleader of those assholes--still is, I guess."

"I think his power might be waning," Rafael says, spotting the guy who'd stepped away from Gary's group walking their way, his eyes focused on Sonny's back. "I'll get us another round." Rafael takes a few steps away, watching from the corner of his eye as the man approaches Sonny with his hand out. Rafael can't hear what they're saying to each other, but he sees the way Sonny smiles, and he finds himself smiling as well as he carries their drinks back over. 

"...appreciate it," Sonny is saying as Rafael stops at his elbow. He turns to Rafael, and his grin widens. "Rafael, this is Bryce."

"I was just telling Sonny I was sorry he saw me walking up with Gary. I was hoping to say hi to Sonny on my own, but Gary and his guys cut me off."

"Were you and Sonny friends in high school?" Rafael asks as he hands Sonny his wine.

Bryce winces. "No. I was one of Gary's guys back then. I was just telling Sonny I was glad to see him here so I could apologize for being such an asshole when we were growing up."

"The unofficial phone tree of Staten Island Catholic Mothers couldn't send along word?" Rafael asks.

Bryce chuckles. "It wasn't until a couple of years ago I really understood how badly I might have come off. It's a bit of a stereotype, but my kid started getting bullied in junior high, and when they came home crying, I realized I'd really been on the wrong side of things as a teenager. It's not that I hadn't matured before my kid came home crying, but it's one thing to know you were an asshole teenager and another to have your own kid come home and describe getting treated the way you used to treat kids who were different from you."

"I'm glad you got there, Bryce," Sonny says, and Rafael almost rolls his eyes again because of _course_ that's what he says. "And I bet you've done a lot of work to help out your kid. What's their name?"

"Finley," Bryce says, taking out his phone. "All-state swimmer, though their mom and I have no idea how. Lindsey hates water, and I never made it past day one of swim tryouts."

"I remember. You weren't that bad," Sonny says as he leans down to look at the picture Bryce has pulled up.

"Maybe it skips a generation," Rafael interjects. "You and your partner can't swim, but the kid got all the recessive genes."

"Rafael," Sonny says, tone fondly admonishing. 

Bryce chuckles. "It's about the best guess I've heard." He looks down at his phone, thumbing through a few more pictures.

"There you are!" Emma Marie says from behind Rafael, and she laughs when he jumps. "Told you I could sneak up on them," she says to the woman next to her.

"Yes, dear, you're very sneaky," the woman says, shaking her head. 

"You must be Lori," Sonny says, holding out his hand. "I'm Sonny. This is Rafael. That's Bryce."

"Hi," Lori says. She shakes everyone's hands. "Nice to meet you."

"How far along are you?" Bryce asks.

Emma Marie takes two steps to the left so she's crowded against Rafael, who ends up crowded against Sonny. "She's four months, doing fine, no weird cravings, and if I have to hear her answer that question one more time, I'm gonna deck someone."

"Well, good news, Gary's still a complete asshole," Rafael says because he is certain if Gary harassed Sonny in high school, he equally harassed Emma Marie.

Emma Marie follows Rafael's gaze and snorts at the sight of Gary holding court halfway across the room. "You think he'll try to joke about how he can switch me if my pregnant wife is on my arm?"

"If he tries, _I'll_ deck him," Sonny replies.

"Hey, no stealing my fun," Emma Marie says. She glances over at Lori. Lori and Bryce are both on their phones, obviously showing off pictures. "So, who have you seen so far?"

"You, Bryce, Gary, and Nicolette," Sonny answers. "Did you know Nicolette? She and I had calc together."

"Oh,I keep up with her," Emma Marie replies, scanning the room. "We ran into each other at Mommy and Me when Xander was an infant, and we've stayed in touch. Total sweetheart. She and Rick come over to ours for game night sometimes."

"Does he talk?" Rafael asks.

"Oh my god," Sonny says, putting his hand over his eyes. "It is too early for you to be this wiseassed."

"Is it?" Rafael asks.

Emma Marie laughs. "Aww, look at you. Old marrieds already." She gives them both a broad wink. "I'm grabbing a drink and showing off my amazing wife. Catch up with you, later."

"You need a break?" Sonny asks, watching Emma Marie and Lori walk towards a small group near the door. "We could step outside for a minute."

"I'm fine," Rafael replies, turning to look at him. He pauses when he realizes Sonny's watching him. "What?" 

Sonny shakes his head and looks away. "Nothing," he says. 

"Something."

Sonny glances at him again. He's nervous, Rafael realizes, though he can't figure out why. "It's really nothing. Just the way E-M looked when she smiled at Lori."

"I didn't notice. Was it disgustingly cute?"

Sonny sips his wine and nods, looking away from Rafael again. "Yeah." He gestures to the far wall where people have started guessing the senior portraits. "Come on; let's see how good my memory is."

Rafael follows, hand pressed lightly to Sonny's lower back. Sonny says hello to a few people, introduces Rafael as his boyfriend, and then casually ruins every other person trying to guess the senior portraits. Rafael isn't surprised. Between his training as a cop and the way he can connect with just about anyone he meets, his brain's built to pull long-forgotten names from the ether or recall who had what haircut for their portrait.

"Jackson is going to be pissed someone outdid him," a woman in a peach dress says as she walks up to Rafael. She cocks her head as Sonny writes a name and puts it under a portrait. "I helped put this game together, and I think Sonny's got more than me on my first try."

"He's annoying like that," Rafael says. 

The woman chuckles. It's a bit affected, but it seems honest. Rafael figures she's probably been glad-handing with attendees all night. "I'm Bianca."

"Rafael."

"Oh, we saw you walk in," she says, gesturing towards the nametag table. "I thought Kim was going to fall over at the sight of you. She had a huge crush on Sonny in high school. She was hoping he was single."

He is, Rafael thinks, but he swallows it back. He glances towards the table, and it's easy to spot Kim. She's unashamedly checking out Sonny's ass, and Rafael can't fault her taste. "Don't tell me she's been holding a torch all this time?"

"Oh, no. She's not living in a dark room with his old swim meet photos up or anything. She's recently divorced and horny, and when she saw he RSVP'ed, she checked his facebook and couldn't believe how good he looked."

"He grew into his looks," Rafael replies, smirking. He watches as Sonny spells out a name for someone else to write down. "Though, he still runs like a drunken giraffe."

"Does he?!" Bianca looks delighted. "I'll tell Kim. It might make her crush worse, but it might make her laugh."

"Here's hoping for the second," Rafael says, holding out his glass. Bianca taps hers against his.

"Why are you toasting?" Sonny asks, walking over to them both. "You're never doing something smart when you're toasting someone. That's how Rollins ended up in the hospital."

"I'm not responsible for Rollins landing on her ass trying to shoe ski down a hill at the park. I toasted her _after_ the doctor said she hadn't broken her tailbone."

"Don't listen to him," Sonny says, flashing a smile at Bianca, "he's a lawyer. They can't be trusted."

"From what I hear, you're a cop," Bianca replies. "Is that better?"

"It's worse because he's also a lawyer," Rafael says. He grins in triumph when Bianca goes completely still, glass tipped halfway to her mouth. "He just tries to pretend he's not."

Sonny points at Rafael, "Don't be pissy."

"Are you really a lawyer?" Bianca asks. 

Sonny sighs and gives Rafael a long-suffering look. Rafael sips his drink, unconcerned. "By technicality, yeah," he says. "But for now, I'm still just a cop."

"A decorated officer of Special Victims Manhattan," Rafael explains. "One of the highest closure records in the department, and he passed the bar while working eighty hours a week."

"Wow," Bianca says, and she seems genuinely impressed. "Lucky you've got someone to talk you up, Sonny. You might be confused for average, otherwise."

"That's what I always say," Rafael tells her.

"I'm getting another drink," Sonny says, taking Rafael's empty glass from his hand. "Bianca, anything for you?"

"Just more conversation with your boyfriend, if you don't mind."

Sonny gives them both a wary look. "I only have enough bail money for one of you," he says. 

"I can pull some strings for myself, thanks," Rafael replies. He grins when Sonny looks exasperated. "Slightly nicer scotch this time."

"I'll be back." Sonny walks towards the bar. 

"What type of lawyer are you, Rafael?"

"Manhattan DA for Special Victims. I met Sonny on the job."

"Is that romantic or a sign you work too much?"

Rafael glances over towards Sonny. He's waiting in line at the bar, relaxed in his body with the cut of his jacket showcasing the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his torso. "I like to think it's mostly the first," he says. "But I'm sure he'd argue." 

"I expect that happens a lot with two lawyers in the house."

Not as much as you'd think, Rafael thinks to himself. He and Sonny discuss things, yes, and they get heated, but it's rare there's an actual argument between them as friends. Sonny's got a natural ability to stop himself before he goes too far, and he's usually willing to let Rafael pull a laugh from him if they come to a standstill. He doesn't say that to Bianca. He asks her about herself instead, and by the time Sonny's back with their drinks, Jackson--who, it turns out is Bianca's husband--has joined the conversation.

The next hour goes in much the same way. People introduce themselves. They mingle. They show off pictures of families and houses. High school stories are told and laughed or groaned at. Rafael stays near Sonny for it all, his hand on Sonny's back more often than not. Emma Marie and Lori find them as the lights dim. Emma Marie is smiling widely. Lori looks like she's on her last legs. 

"Sonny, do me a solid, will you? Lori's beat, but I wanna dance a couple dances, and Rafael's way closer to my height."

Sonny glances at Rafael, who nods. "Sure," Sonny says. He offers Lori his arm and gets her to a table. 

"Come on," Emma Marie says, yanking on Rafael's arm as the music starts. It's an upbeat pop song, and half the room yells the lyrics as they dance along. Rafael spins Emma Marie under his arm to get her on the floor and dips her lightly as they both start moving to the beat. 

"Sonny told me about you waltzing," Emma Marie says, her grin a dangerous flash of deep red lipstick and white teeth. "Sounds like a good time."

"It was nice," Rafael says. 

Emma Marie gives him a long-suffering look and leans in towards his ear. "Don't bullshit me, buddy. You're smitten."

"What?" Rafael doesn't stop moving, but it's a near thing.

"You heard me." Emma Marie leans back so Rafael can see her face. "Come on. You're standing here in that suit with this crowd because of that man. _You_ offered to be _his_ date."

"He didn't want to show up alone. You told me to get him here."

"Well, I wasn't expecting an entire backstory for it," she answers. She glances down and tips her head as she looks at Rafael's feet. "You're wearing the socks, right?"

"The socks?"

"Purple and yellow. Sonny mentioned you had a whole thing about socks, said you looked good in purple, and then sent me a photo of purple and yellow socks."

Rafael does stop moving at that. He can't help but glance down at himself. "Are you playing matchmaker?" he asks.

"Not on purpose, but I'm here now, and you're here now, so yes."

Rafael shakes his head. "We're friends." 

"Yup. And you showed up to play his boyfriend, and neither of you seems to have a problem going with it."

"He does a lot of undercover."

"Do you?"

Rafael meets her gaze. "Are you done?"

"Sure," Emma Marie says. She takes Rafael's hand to lead him off the dance floor. "I'm not looking to lock you two in a room until you figure it out. I'm just making sure everyone's on the same page."

"What page is Sonny on?"

"You'd have to ask him, but you should probably know his socks have pineapples on them." Emma Marie gives him an ingratiating smile before letting go of his hand and walking over to Sonny and Lori. She and Sonny talk briefly, then hug, and then she's leading Lori out of the room with an arm around her waist. 

Sonny turns to find Rafael, and when their eyes meet, Sonny looks nervous like earlier. Rafael walks over to him and puts his hands on his hips. "Okay, that's the second time tonight you've looked like that. What's going on?"

Sonny shakes his head. "Nothing. It's…" He sighs and looks down, his jaw tensing for a moment. "Step outside with me?" he asks, glancing up at Rafael through his lashes.

"Sure. It's warming up in here." Rafael follows Sonny outside. It's cool but not chilly. They walk a few dozen feet from the cafeteria door, and Sonny sits on a concrete picnic table. Rafael stays standing, letting the breeze cool him down. 

Sonny tilts his head up and stares at the sky for a few moments. When he looks at Rafael again, the nervous look is back, but there's also a stubbornness Rafael knows well. Whatever's bothering Sonny, he's going to get it out. "I was talking to Lori. She knows what's up with us tonight. You coming along and...everything." Sonny waves a hand to encompass 'everything'. "She was telling me how natural it all looked to her, how much we must like each other."

"Nice to know we're pulling it off."

"Are we?" Sonny asks. He tilts his head at Rafael. "I mean, yeah, everyone inside seems to think we're a couple, so we're pulling it off, but…" He sighs and adjusts his cuffs, then straightens his lapels. 

"But what?" Rafael prompts when Sonny's been quiet too long. "Do you feel bad for lying?"

"No," Sonny says. "And that's kind of the problem, I think."

"The problem is you don't feel bad for lying?" Rafael can't help meeting Sonny's annoyed look with one of mild surprise. "Well?" he prompts.

"I feel bad because it's so easy to believe it's _not_ a lie, and I've sort of just realized how much I'd like to _actually_ date you if you have any interest, but now we're set up in this faux-comedy bit because you were being a good friend, and I don't--"

"Hold on," Rafael says. It's taken him a moment to catch up with Sonny's rapid speech. "Did you just say you want to date me?"

Sonny heaves out a breath. "Yeah," he says, chin ducking into his chest. "I'm sorry."

"You're _sorry_?" Rafael has to swallow a laugh. "Why would you be sorry about that?"

"Because we're in this ridiculous situation right now because I couldn't just see what was right in front of me and act on it like a grown-up."

"What was right in front of you?"

"You, you dumbass," Sonny says. He bites his lip. "Just. You. I really like you, Rafael. And I thought it was just as a friend, but play-acting this whole thing tonight, it was like opening a door I hadn't realized was there." 

Rafael can't speak for a moment. Sonny's staring at him, eyes huge, worry and concern on his face, but the worry and concern aren't for himself. They're for _Rafael_. He's worried he's made Rafael uncomfortable or come off as a bad friend. Rafael can only shake his head and reach out for Sonny's hand, touching their fingers together. "You idiot," he says.

"That doesn't sound like an insult," Sonny replies, reading him like he always does. 

"Because I'm an idiot, too. When you were over making dinner the other night, I realized the same thing that you just did, and I didn't know how to tell you either because we were stuck in this faux-comedy agreement we're currently undoing." Rafael smiles at Sonny and watches the worry and concern fade from his face. When Sonny smiles back, it's bright and warm and open like it always is, but there's a different curve to his mouth, like maybe he's thinking about kissing Rafael and can't quite stop the urge to pucker his lips. 

"I'm going to kiss you, and you're going to be my boyfriend," Sonny says. 

Rafael gets a proper grip on Sonny's hand. "I'd carve our initials in the picnic table, but I don't have a chisel."

"We'll figure something out," Sonny says and leans down.

Rafael lifts on his toes to meet him halfway. The kiss is gentle and sweet. Sonny licks lightly at Rafael's bottom lip, and Rafael opens his mouth, slides his own tongue behind Sonny's front teeth to flick at his soft palate. Sonny presses a hand to Rafael's side and gently nudges him forward. Rafael goes happily, lifting their joined hands so they're pressed against their chests.

"Stay over next week," Rafael says when they part. "You still owe me dinner."

Sonny chuckles against his cheek and kisses him by his ear. "I can do that." He noses into Rafael's hair and breathes in deep. "Want to go back inside?" he asks after a moment.

"Not right now," Rafael says. He can hear the music coming from the cafeteria. It's a slow song. Not a waltz, but it doesn't need to be. He rests his head on Sonny's shoulder and sways, and Sonny sways with him. "I want to get used to having a boyfriend."

"Me, too," Sonny replies, and he kisses Rafael again. 

*

"I am the greatest matchmaker of all time," Emma Marie says months later when she, Lori, Xander, and the new baby--Theodora--are over at Rafael and Sonny's new place for dinner.

"So you've said every time we've seen them, honey," Lori replies, sharing a look with Rafael. Emma Marie and Sonny may have different wavelengths of enthusiasm, but the result on their partners is the same. 

"And now you're living together and mixing your socks," Emma Marie says, a hand on her heart. "It's a true love story."

"It is," Sonny says, smiling at Rafael. 

"A little melodramatic in the first act for my tastes, but it's evened out nicely," Rafael replies.

"What's that like?" Lori asks, heavy sarcasm in her voice. She laughs when Emma Marie throws a napkin at her.

"It's nice," Sonny says, and Rafael can't even tease him for being so mild about it. It _is_ nice, and they're them, and Rafael's the happiest he's been since--he's long since realized--Sonny became his friend in the first place.

"It's a light drama," Rafael adds to make everyone laugh. Sonny nuzzles into his hair, and Rafael leans into it. Under the table, Rafael bumps their ankles together. They're wearing matching socks, a double-lucky pair.

**Author's Note:**

> This was an anon prompt, and lemme tell you, I'm surprised it's 13k, too.


End file.
